


the spike you wanted

by orphan_account



Category: haikyu!!
Genre: Competition, Fingering, Hate Sex, Iwaizumi "the Zumiez" Hajime, Lack of condoms, M/M, Rivalry, Rough Sex, Spanking, but it's not unwholesome, not especially safe sex, please use condoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I thought there was one brat in this bed, but there’s two.”orif you can't beat 'em, fuck 'em
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 186





	the spike you wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Don't take this for a guide on seducing people or having sex. Don't take this for a guide. Don't even read this. Just leave a comment if my obsession with using macrons over 'o's has rendered this fic illegible.

“You’re so petty, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa gasps, neck thrown back as Iwaizumi growls and sucks into his skin. He yanks Oikawa’s hair and Oikawa makes a noise that he prays to god isn’t audible outside of their shower stall, where he’s sure some of their teammates are still finishing up their post-game cleansing. 

“You’re really so petty,” he continues, “and everyone thinks I’m the horrible one but you’re just as bad as I am, you just hide it better.”

“And?” He feels Iwa’s tongue form the word against his skin. “You know that. That’s why you’re friends with me.”

“Friends,” Oikawa chuckles. “I’m just glad you’re as pissed off as I am. That this gets you as fired up as it does me.”

Iwaizumi wraps his wet hand around Oikawa’s cock and twists it in just the right way that has Oikawa choking up on his own whimper. “You’re clearly not bothered enough if you can comment on my personality.”

“I’m just—” he has to bite his lip before remembered the words he wants to say “—so fucking angry—” Iwaizumi lifts him up and pushes him into the shower wall “—that I can’t express it in just one way—” they rub together in the perfect motion and Oikawa cuts off to bury his moan in Iwaizumi’s shouder.

“Fucking hell, Tōru, maybe if you’d just shut up for once,” Iwa hisses, rutting into him with impatience, “you’d have enough brain power to help us win against Shiratorizawa.”

“Iwa-chan, I can’t,” Oikawa is raking his nails across Iwa’s shoulders. “He’s so fucking sure. He’s so sure he’s gonna win. I hate him so much.”

Iwaizumi lowers his voice to a gravel. “You know only one competitor goes to nationals, right?”

At that, Oikawa gives a hoarse scream of frustration, and finally finally comes against Iwa’s abs, whining as Iwa keep thrusting against him, muttering “That fucking ass.”

“Come on, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers, growing sensitive as he comes down from his high, feeling Iwa’s still hard cock against him. “He said this would be our final competition. We’re going to fuck him up, Iwa-chan.”

That makes Iwa growl furiously, and come, spilling heat onto the sensitive skin of Oikawa’s inner thighs. “Fuck, Tōru. Fuck.”

“You got it,” Oikawa murmurs as Iwaizumi gently lowers him to his feet again. He cards his fingers through Iwa’s wet hair. “You were so good. You’re so hot, Iwa-chan. Fuck.”

Iwaizumi buries his face in the crook of Oikawa’s neck. “We gotta stop having rough angry sex every time Ushijima pisses us off.”

“Why?” Oikawa just stands there, absentmindedly playing with the scratches he left on Iwa’s back. They should probably wait in here a little longer, he didn’t want to bother with seeing anyone give them knowing looks in the changing quarters. “It’s hot rough angry sex.”

“True,” Iwaizumi admits. “But you do have sharp claws there. And second, I’m just thinking, maybe we should stop taking it out on each other, and take it out on him instead.”

“What? When I said we should fuck KyōKen-chan you said no.”

“Not—”  
Oikawa cuts Iwaizumi off. “It was such a turn on to see you beat him at those competitions he’d come up with. And I know you liked it when I played with him on the court.”

“I said no because you can cut the tension between him and Yahaba with a knife, idiot,” Iwaizumi reprimands him. “I don’t wanna touch that with a ten foot pole.”

Oikawa goes silent, pouting. “…it would be hot though.”

“It would be hot,” Iwa agrees. “But it would be hot to fuck Ushijima after a game too, which is why I’m bringing it up. And he’s not even a teammate so there’s no risk.”

“The risk is that he murders us ‘cause he’s a psycho asshole,” Oikawa says, but drags his hands up and down Iwa’s muscled arms anyways. “Fine. But I wanna top.”

Iwa chuckles. “I doubt that’ll happen. Now stop that, we’re not going for round two. We gotta save energy for the Karasuno game.”

Oikawa whines at him, but lets Iwa pull him under the still-hot shower jet, rinsing them off in a brisk and very untempting way.

Oh, who was he kidding? Iwa was always tempting whether he was trying to be or not.

By the time Seijoh piles onto the bus to take them back to campus, the disbelief and frustration at their loss to Karasuno eases into acceptance and the natural lightheartedness of high school boys makes its stirrings in the members of the team. Oikawa, following Kyōtani, sees Yahaba alone in his seat and takes the chance presented to shove Kyōtani onto him, swiftly sitting in the seat across the aisle. Kyōtani, angry as ever and embarrassed from stumbling into Yahaba’s lap, tries to stand up but by then Iwaizumi has arrived and pushes Kyōtani back into the seat with a firm hand, and then sits next to Oikawa and puts his legs up across the aisle, locking the four of them in. Iwaizumi then leans back into Oikawa and the two of them ignore the red-faced underclassmen across from them. 

“Are we still thinking of going for it?” Oikawa asks Iwaizumi.

“Now more than ever, in my opinion.” He reaches around and taps Oikawa’s phone. “We didn’t get to play him so I’ve got a whole lotta pent up frustration and no outlet. Do your magic.”

Oikawa hums. “I texted Semi, figured he’d know if anyone did.”

“The setter, right? He respond?”

The phone buzzes, and Oikawa reads it out loud for him in his monotone i’m-reading-a-text-voice. “yeah gay gay gayyyyy, hooked up with him a couple times last year before I started dating Hisako-chan, what’s up?  
“I’m gonna send ‘me and iwa-chan wanna hit it’”

Iwaizumi gives a little laugh at that. “Send it.”

Oikawa’s phone buzzes again quickly. “He says ‘lmao nice.’”  
A second buzz, and “’Kind of a closet case though. Think he doesn’t wanna risk athletic sponsors.’ That’s fine, we’re not gonna date him.”

“Fuck no,” Iwaizumi growls. “I’d have to resist the urge to kill him every day.”

“You’re so perfect,” Oikawa mumbles, typing a thank you note to Semi on his phone. Another buzz and Oikawa reads “’you and the Zumiez could handle him pretty well though, he likes to be controlling and I know you two are pretty good at pissing people off.’ I forgot about that nickname, Iwa-chan!”

“Don’t say it out loud again,” Iwaizumi groans, then nudges his head against Oikawa. “Look.”

Oikawa turns to his right to see Kyōtani asleep with his head on Yahaba’s shoulder, who was staying breathlessly still and yet looking not at all displeased with the situation. 

“Yessss,” Oikawa whispers, and then stealthily takes a picture. “And I’m changing your contact name to the Zumiez.”

“Uh-huh,” Iwa says disbelievingly. “I’m gonna go to sleep too.”

“Goodnight Iwa-chan,” Oikawa hums as Iwa presses a light kiss to the side of his arm. “Sweet dreams of Ushijima being controlling in bed.”

Iwaizumi just elbows him.

“So this is interesting,” Iwaizumi says as Shiratorizawa trudges off the court, defeated for the first time in three years. “Does it ruin whatever plan you were hatching?”

“Not at all, in fact it makes it easier.” Oikawa is busy typing away on his phone, and Iwaizumi gets distracted for a second by the glasses framing his face. He always had a soft spot for Tōru’s glasses. “Coach is already interested in having more practice matches, and now that Shiratorizawa’s lost to the same team as us, we’ve probably got enough leverage to convince them to hook up with us. All we need to do now is set a date, and then I can get a hotel room.”

He looks up at Iwaizumi, flashing a grin that gets Iwa’s pulse racing. “Make sure you let your mom know you’ll be staying out that weekend, Iwa-chan.”

“You’re something else, Oikawa,” Iwa says, rolling his eyes. He looks back down at Ushijima, noting that he doesn’t look affected by the devastating loss. “And he’s a real piece of work.”

“He doesn’t even fucking look sad,” Oikawa marvels. “Let’s get out of here, Iwa-chan, I’m annoyed and I’m turned on.”

Iwaizumi takes one last look at Ushijima’s careless, slanted gaze as he saunters off the court and sneers at his back before letting Oikawa usher him off.

“Iwa-chan!”

Oikawa sets the ball over to Iwaizumi, and before Ushijima can get into place in the block, he slams it down into Shiratorizawa court, grinning like a madman and knowing Oikawa is smirking haughtily next to him. Ushijima locks eyes with him, and even though he knows their opponent has naturally drawn brows, he can see that he’s even more annoyed than usual. It might be their thirty-thirty score in their first-to-fifty scrimmage, or it might be the recent loss to Karasuno, but Ushijima is definitely paying more personal attention to Iwa and Oikawa than usual, and Iwa can tell that he’s not happy.

In the next minute, Iwa dives to receive one of Ushijima’s left-handed spikes and fails, ending up on the ground staring at Ushijima looking down on him. A hint of a smile crosses his lips before he turns away, and Iwaizumi feels his stomach burn with the usual annoyance and impatience and competitiveness. Oikawa gives him a hand up and his own grin is a little crazed.

“I’m so ready to either beat him or rip his clothes off,” he whispers into Iwaizumi’s ear, and Iwaizumi laughs darkly in response, and the two of them look straight at Ushijima again. He’s looking back at them. Of course he is. In return, Oikawa lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead. Iwaizumi admires Oikawa’s abs for a second before remembering that it’s a calculated move and goes back into position on the court.

In the end, Shiratorizawa wins by a three point streak, and each of those from Ushijima’s hand. Each one left Oikawa and Iwaizumi gritting their teeth and staring furiously at Ushijima, feeling like fire was racing under their skin.  
“Good try,” Ushijima says to Oikawa after the game, shaking his hand. “You two are really…something to play against. You should have come to Shiratorizawa.”

“You should come on my f-“ Oikawa’a muttering is cut off by Iwaizumi elbowing him. 

“What?” Ushijima asks, offering Iwaizumi his hand.

“Come see us after you’re done cleaning up,” Iwaizumi tells him, trailing his fingertips across Ushijima’s palm after the handshake breaks. “We’ll be in the area for tonight.”

Ushijima raises an eyebrow, but eventually nods before turning away.

“Good try,” Oikawa hisses. “I cannot believe—”

Iwaizumi pulls around the corner before slamming him against the wall and kissing him fiercely. “I can’t fucking believe we lost again,” he says. “I’m so damn angry.”

“Those spikes,” Oikawa moans into his mouth. “Please tell him to spank me like that. Please, Iwa-chan.”

“Given up any plans of topping, huh?” Iwa chuckles but reluctantly pulls away. “Come on, we gotta go clean up.”

“Yep, clean…up,” Oikawa says wistfully, and dutifully follows him to the locker room. “I did bring two water bottles.”

Ushijima is in fact waiting for them outside the gym, and Oikawa feels a smidgen of relief wiping away the apprehension that he wouldn’t get what he wanted. Of course, he and Iwa-chan would still get a nice night together working out their frustrations, but god they were so excited for this.

“So where are we going?” Ushijima’s voice was always low, lower than Oikawa’s, and even lower than Iwa-chan’s, but Oikawa hadn’t really taken note of that until recently.

“A hotel, the one just across the road there,” Oikawa says smoothly, draping himself over Iwa-chan’s shoulders. He holds Ushijima’s eyes to make sure the other understands what exactly they’re offering him, and sees no confusion there. “Of course, we could always take you out to dinner first, but I thought maybe the game was enough to get us all in the mood.”

“You’re right about that,” Ushijima says, the first real smile of the day crossing his face. “You’re the reason we even had this practice game, aren’t you, Oikawa?”

“Iwa-chan’s idea and my execution,” Oikawa says brightly, and his hand automatically slips into Iwaizumi’s as he leads the other two down the sidewalk to the hotel door. The clerk smiles kindly at them.

“Tough game today, boys?” She’s an older woman with a grandmotherly air to her. Oikawa turns up his charm.

“Yes Ma’am,” he says, dimples peeking out. “I’m looking forward to sleeping.”

“You enjoy your rest, get plenty of sleep! And you have the western bath room, as requested. Did you want me to send up an extra futon for your friend here?”

“No need, ma’am, he’s just making some plans with us before he goes home. Thank you so much!” Oikawa takes the key card from her and the three of them disappear to the elevator. He’s getting antsy, and it doesn’t show in the other two but Iwa’s been rubbing his hand with a gentle thumb and he wants to touch them for real.

They finally get into the room and Oikawa lets just one section of his brain admire the California King bed before chucking his bag on the ground, pulling off his shirt and pulling Iwa towards him for a kiss in revenge for his wandering thumb. They break apart quickly so that Iwa-chan can take off his own clothes, and Oikawa looks at Ushijima, standing still.

“If you don’t undress I can’t touch you, Ushijima-kun,” Oikawa says haughtily. 

“One would think you’d be more eager to get to fucking us,” Iwaizumi follows up, “after we just let you win that game.”

Ushijima isn’t slow to react, but it does seem like his anger takes a moment to build up. “Let me win?”

Oikawa knows Iwaizumi’s got his blood-boiling teasing grin on that matches his own, and they only smile wider as Ushijima takes a step forward, slowly dropping his bag and reaching for the zipper of his jacket. “You two didn’t let me win, you barely kept up with me. Together. As if you could ever measure up to me.”

He pauses, eyes them both, and says “I thought there was one brat here, turns out there’s two. Iwaizumi, get on the bed. Now.” 

Ushijima drops his jacket and curves his hand around the back of Oikawa’s neck, then pulls him to the bed after Iwaizumi. He settles back against the pillows and headboard and pushes Oikawa down between his legs, tugging Iwaizumi closer to his side and kissing him. Oikawa immediately goes for the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them down, and starts lapping at his cock eagerly. Iwaizumi breaks out of the kiss.

“Off,” he pants, pulling Ushijima’s shirt up. Ushijima complies and lets Iwaizumi fling it off to the side before pulling him back in, threading a hand into Oikawa’s hair. 

“Oikawa,” he rumbles. “Put your hands behind your back.”

Oikawa looks up at him with those doe brown eyes, but slowly acquiesces, his long fingers now fidgeting with each other in the small of his back. He sinks back down onto Ushijima’s cock and Ushijima growls into Iwaizumi’s mouth at the feeling. 

“He can handle it,” Iwaizumi murmurs against Ushijima’s lips. Ushijima ignores him for a moment in favor of licking along Iwaizumi’s teeth but eventually husks out “What?”

Iwaizumi’s hand leaves his body and then suddenly Oikawa is deepthroating him; Ushijima turns to see Iwaizumi pushing Oikawa’s head down ruthlessly alongside Ushijima’s own hand in Oikawa’s hair. 

“He can handle it,” Iwaizumi insists, letting go of a moaning Oikawa to run his hands over Ushijima again. Ushijima smirks, taking charge of putting Oikawa through his steps, and then looks back at Iwaizumi’s green eyes.

“Don’t think for a moment,” he says, pulling Iwaizumi closer and pushing his knees apart with his elbows until Iwaizumi’s practically grinding against his hip, “that because you get to boss him around all the time, you’ll be in charge tonight.”

He reaches down and squeezes Iwaizumi’s ass, forcing him to rub against Ushijima even harder and making Iwaizumi emit some surprised, wanton sound and grab Ushijima’s shoulders for stability. He addresses Oikawa then, gently brushing a curl out of his face. “And don’t forget to swallow, sweetheart.”

Oikawa growls at him but the effect is lessened and muffled by his current position, so Ushijima pays his attitude no attention and goes back to learning Iwaizumi’s body.

Iwaizumi thinks he’s got everything under control, he’s enjoying himself and it’s pretty damn hot to have such bulk under his hands, but then Ushijima moves his tongue in a certain way and rubs right between his cheeks and fuck. Fuck. He hasn’t made that noise since Tōru put on his glasses while blowing him. Fuck, Tōru heard that. He’s gonna see Ushijima take him apart. There’s no saving Iwa now.

Ushijima’s kisses and movements start getting more possessive, more distracted, and through his haze of arousal Iwa can see the flush and the whines coming from Oikawa as Ushijima fucks into his mouth. He clings to Ushijima a little harder as he bites at Iwa’s collarbone, his shoulder, and comes with a low grunt, hips stilling. Oikawa’s hands twist frantically behind him as he struggles to swallow around Ushijima’s cock, head still held in place by the hair.

Ushijima finally relaxes, letting go of Oikawa and loosening his grip on Iwazumi. He brushes the drool from the corners of Oikawa’s mouth in a way that could be tender if it weren’t so clearly condescending. “Go sit at the end of the bed, Oikawa. Hands on the baseboard.”

Ushijima pats Iwa’s ass. “Go take care of your boy.”

Iwaizumi hops off the bed to go find the lube they’d brought, and Oikawa snarks out “What’s your deal with my hands?”

“Your hands,” Ushijima says, finally taking his sweats and boxers all the way off, “were very troublesome to me during the match, so you don’t get to use them right now.”

“I’m very good with my hands. You’d like them.”

“I’m sure you are,” Ushijima says, and then guides Iwaizumi to face Oikawa and props his ass up towards himself. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathes, and Iwaizumi smirks up at him before slicking up his fingers and starts exploring between his thighs. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ushijima says suddenly as Iwa takes Oikawa into his mouth. Iwaizumi looks back, confused, and then yelps as Ushijima lands a hard smack on his ass. “You should probably keep your teeth somewhere safe.”

Oikawa looks so hungry when Iwaizumi looks back at him, and his cock, already hard, is getting even harder before his eyes. Iwa gets back to work, blind to Ushijima laying another smack on him. His own moan mixes with Oikawa’s whimper and Iwa feels so, so turned on.

“No,” Oikawa rasps, “use your left hand on him.”  
“Oh god,” Iwa mutters against Oikawa’s thigh.

Ushijima switches to having his right hand bracing Iwaizumi’s hip, but asks “What do you say when you want something, Oikawa?”

“Please?” Oikawa’s hands are turning white from gripping the baseboard. “Please.”

“Good boy,” Ushijima growls, and strokes Iwa’s back. “Iwaizumi?”

Iwaizumi takes a break from tonguing the underside of Oikawa’s cock. “I think you like spiking well enough that you don’t need me to beg you for it.”

Ushijima’s hand appeared in his hair and pulled him upwards off of Oikawa, the heel of his palm pressing down in his neck to keep him in his bowed position. His right hand was still caressing Iwa’s hip, and fuck Iwaizumi’s skin was always so sensitive there.

“I don’t need you to beg,” Ushijima says to him, “I need you to tell me that you think you’ll be able to handle it. Oikawa’s not gonna be the one crying in a few minutes.”

“I won’t cry,” Iwaizumi growls, and pushes his fingers up into Oikawa, who whines as he thrusts down to meet them. “Do whatever you w-“

The slap doesn’t silence him, but the words get lost in his yelp. This one was so much harder than the last two, driving him into the bed where he can’t help but to grind against the blanket.

“So noisy,” Ushijima sighs as he pulls Iwaizumi up again, away from the friction.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa begs, and Iwa remembers to move his fingers and take care of his boyfriend who has so obediently been keeping his hands away. The next slap lands right where his thighs meet his cheeks and he nearly forgets to keep pleasuring Oikawa again, unable to stay quiet. The pain takes so long to subside and the brush of Ushijima’s hands over his burning skin make him want, so badly, to be touched everywhere. The third slap makes him cry out.

“Iwa-chan, you look so good,” Oikawa says above him, hips grinding down onto his hand. “His hands look so good on you.”

“Don’t let him come,” Ushijima orders, but as he spanks Iwaizumi again there’s nothing left in Iwa’s mind that could help him put any more effort into bringing Oikawa to climax. He feels his eyes tear up and struggles to not let them fall until the fifth slap falls harder than anything else and he sobs into Oikawa’s thigh, struggling against Ushijima’s hands to get any sort of friction on his cock. Instead, Ushijima pulls him up and away, into his lap and he looks across at Oikawa, whose eyes are blown black as he stares at the two of them.

“Keep your thighs apart, Oikawa, and watch,” orders Ushijima, and Oikawa’s sound of frustration is so familiar, so lovely to Iwaizumi’s ears.

“Wait, wait,” Iwa gasps out. He addresses Ushijima, “I brought a vibrator for him.”

“Go, then,” Ushijima says, letting him go and giving him a smarting tap on his ass. Iwa gets up on shaky legs to dig through the bag, and when he returns Ushijima hands him the bottle of lube and he takes it, turning the vibrator on, slicking it up and pushing it into Oikawa until it settles in the place he knows Oikawa both loves and hates.

“Please, Iwa-chan, I wanna come,” begs Oikawa, but Ushijima pulls Iwa back and turns him, chest to chest, so that his legs are spread wide over Ushijima’s muscled thighs, so vulnerable that Iwa tucks his head into Ushijima’s neck. Oikawa has such an excellent view of Iwa’s pretty red ass, and he wants to touch so badly.

“Is he easy?” Ushijima murmurs to Iwaizumi, staring straight into Oikawa’s eyes. Oikawa stared back, but the way he worries his bottom lip with his teeth undermines all his annoyance and frustration.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says softly, “he likes to be.”

“Then watch, Oikawa,” Ushijima tells him, not breaking eye contact. His hand slides between Iwaizumi’s thighs easily and Oikawa’s face opens up, eyes flickering down to where Ushijima’s fingers are circling, pushing, opening up Iwaizumi slowly and surely, ever persistent. Iwa’s hips are moving, trying to push down but Ushijima has one strong arm encircling his waist and holding him steady. Oikawa draws his own thighs together in sympathy, trying to grind down on the vibrator Iwa had put inside him.

“No,” Ushijima growls, and pulls out of Iwaizumi, who moans in frustration. “Keep your legs spread, Oikawa.”

“Fuck, please,” Oikawa growls, frustration finally overcoming his lust.

“Tōru, please,” Iwa calls from under Ushijima’s jaw. “He won’t—I—”

Oikawa sees that Ushijima is still holding Iwaizumi in place, the hand he’d been using to open him up beforehand is just lightly tracing along the soft underside of Iwa’s thigh now. He grits his teeth, and finally returns to his former position, ignoring Ushijima’s satisfied smile in favor of watching his long fingers push into Iwa again.

“Come, if you can,” Ushijima tells him, and fuck he would bite off Ushijima’s head if he could. “Just watch how well Iwaizumi takes it and imagine it’s you here, getting opened up. You can feel it inside of you, can’t you? It’s not like he can close his legs either. You’re both being so good, so obedient, Oikawa. You’re so well behaved when you do what I tell you to.”  
And he’s right, Oikawa can feel it inside him. The combination of vibrations and erratic clenching works wonders on the physical side while his brain gets jolt after jolt of arousal from hearing Ushijima’s voice, watching his fingers slide into Iwa-chan, seeing the flush spreading down the back of Iwa-chan’s neck, the moans drifting around the room. He doesn’t think he’ll come from this, as wide-strung and pinned down as he is, but fuck if it isn’t doing a good job at keeping him on the edge of pure lust. Ushijima must have found the right spot, because Iwa-chan jerks in his grasp and swears and Ushijima’s eyes narrow and focus as he strings Iwa-chan along until he’s taut as a bow.

“Now then,” Ushijima rumbles, and breaks the trance the two are in by turning Iwaizumi around and lining himself up behind him. Oikawa, unable to break his eyes away from Iwaizumi’s face, sees the moment when Iwa feels Ushijima slowly enter him, sees Iwa’s lips part, sees his eyes roll back in his head. And fuck, he wants to come so badly, thinks he should be able to just from this, from seeing how beautiful his boyfriend is—getting fucked by the biggest pain in their asses in the whole world, no less. 

When Ushijima begins thrusting into Iwaizumi in earnest, he anchors his large hands to Iwa’s hips and lets his fingers dig in there, promising hand-shaped bruises. Every time Iwaizumi’s fully seated back onto his lap, his ass stings in pain, but Ushijima’s precision is too much and too perfect. Iwa’s vision blurs and he feels as if his mind is completely melted—he knows he’s making far more noise than he would consciously want to. Through that all, though, he’s watching Oikawa, locking onto him like he’s an anchor when Iwa’s completely set adrift in a storm. He can’t see it, but Oikawa’s caught on him too, his own predicament nearly forgotten as he watches the two of them. 

Iwaizumi lets go of his tenuous grip on Ushijima’s forearm to reach for himself, but Ushijima catches onto it and growls, pulling out and tipping Iwaizumi onto his back, settling between his thighs before Iwaizumi even has time to complain.

“Hands,” he says shortly to Oikawa, pushing Iwaizumi’s arms up above his head and inclining his head towards them. It takes Oikawa a heartbeat to understand what he means, and then he’s scrambling, letting go of the baseboard and clutching Iwa’s hands with his own. Their fingers intertwine like a lover’s handhold, but Oikawa’s weight and more keeps Iwa’s hands there above his head, flexing in frustration of not being allowed to touch himself, but then Ushijima begins to fuck him again and he’s gone.

Oikawa watches Ushijima fuck Iwaizumi into a panting, mewling mess, his hands clutching desperately at Oikawa’s own, and he feels like flames are curling in every part of his body. He isn’t sure if he wants to be Ushijima, imposing and broad over Iwa, or Iwa lost to sense, spread open and full and oh so sensitive, or if he’s most glad to be himself and fucking see this in front of him—and then Iwaizumi’s coming over himself with a small cry.

Ushijima stops and slowly pulls out again and Oikawa barely has a moment to appreciate Iwa’s shudder before Ushijima’s looking right at him and says “Come here.”  
He does, instantly, and Ushijima catches him by the arm and waist and lays him down next to Iwa, soft and still shaking with aftershocks, and Oikawa sucks in a sharp breath when Ushijima pushes his thighs apart, pulls out the still-buzzing vibrator, and with no preamble pushes his cock in. Oikawa’s not quite ready for it, but he’s been so aroused and teased for so long that it overpowers the pain. Iwa presses soft kisses into his collarbones and he lets sounds slip out from between closed lips, Ushijima’s harsh pants above him signaling the endgame. Grinding into Iwa’s side, fucked and full of Ushijima, it isn’t long before Oikawa comes with a whine, digging his fingers into Iwa’s bicep. It’s just a few thrusts later that Ushijima finally, blissfully comes too and barely avoids crushing either of them as he collapses.

“God, Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa purrs reverently, and relapses into panting alongside his bedmates. He wouldn’t be surprised if Iwa was crossing the line into sleep at this point, but his boyfriend stirs as the bed shifts. Ushijima’s getting up, slowly and awkwardly, but he reaches for his clothes and alarm shoots through Oikawa. “Where are you going?”

“Uh…leaving? I thought I should.” Ushijima looks like he feels out of place, a stark difference from the brutal control he’d exercised earlier.

“Fuck no,” Iwa groans from the bed, and Oikawa props himself up on an elbow, agreeing with him.

“Ushiwaka-chan, that was just round one!” He lets his expression soften a little bit when he sees Ushijima’s eyes widen. “We won’t force you to stay, but. But we were so good for you, won’t you stay? For us?”

Ushijima looks at him with a little hesitation, and Oikawa tries to hold his gaze as sincerely as he can. It’s a little difficult, he’s used to being rude and evil immediately after being sincere, but he and Iwa certainly aren’t going to fuck and drop someone minutes afterwards.

“Fine,” Ushijima rumbles, and lets go of his sweatpants. “But I want to shower.”

“I’ll join you!” Oikawa shoots up immediately, and Iwa groans sleepily beside him, seemingly given up on words. Oikawa softens. “I’ll bring you a towel, Iwa-chan.”

“Also, don’t call me Ushiwaka,” Ushijima grumbles. Oikawa ignores him.

**Author's Note:**

> not included: Tendo patiently explaining to Ushijima in the locker rooms that Iwa and Oikawa were subtly inviting him to McFuck. Ushijima wondering why they didn't do what Semi did and just say "lets fuck dude." Semi pointedly ignoring both of them.


End file.
